The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage

[22] The Village by the River

Emotions were high for most of the evening although the two goblin boys were up and getting into who knows what like nothing had ever happened. Freja returned to her tent to try and finish setting it up. Sabec showed her how the night before and she felt like it shouldn’t be too hard to do. It was just ropes, poles, cloth and stakes. After struggling for a few minutes she heard footsteps approaching. 

“Sif, do you need help?” Owen asked as he grabbed one of the poles to stop it from falling over. “You aren't going to get it to stay up like that.”

Freja was slightly hesitant with her answer. “Uh, yes, thank you.”

“Look, I wanted to thank you for what you did for my boy.” Owen said as he secured his side of the tent. “I know lesser potions aren’t cheap, so how much?” Freja opened her mouth to respond but he raised his hand to stop her. “And I don’t want to hear it was free or anything like that.”

Freja opened then closed her mouth then said. “I-I don’t know what the going rate is for lesser health potions. I made that one for an emergency so I don’t want to charge you.”

“You made it?” Owen asked as he placed the last stake in the ground. “Hold that there, while I tighten this.” He pointed to the second pole.

“Like this?” Freja asked. “And yes I know how to make many different types of potions.”

“What? Are you an alchemist?” Owen asked, completely dumbfounded. “Why were you disowned?” He thought about his words. “Sorry, that was insensitive. Helina told me about the shiagaunt, but an alchemist?”

“My family's expectations were elsewhere.” Freja said solemnly. 

“If they didn’t see the value in their daughter or in an alchemist, fuck’em.” Owen said. “Sounds like a bunch of stuck up shits.”

Freja laughed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I will pay you a silver for the potion and saving my son and for my wife getting snot all over your skirt earlier. She was crying so much you would swear she is the one that got kicked.” Owen said as he dusted off his hands and reached into his coin purse. “Won’t take no for an answer.” He held out the coin. “And your tent is all set up.”

“This is way too much, right?” Freja asked.

“The normal price for a lesser health potion is half a silver, fifty copper.” Owen said, running the calculation in his head. “For a greater, five silvers would be fair. A grand, you’d be looking for a gold or two and a supreme maybe five or six hundred platinum, probably more but never seen one, shit can bring you back from damn near death, regrow limbs, restore memories and any other miracles you want.”

“So it is too much.” Freja said.

“No, it isn’t. Oh, and Helina and the boys are taking back out the tub for you if you want another hot bath.” Owen said as he started to walk off. “They want to thank you too. Have a good night, Sif.”

Freja looked at the coin for a long moment. It was the first time she had ever made money. As a Salstar she was prohibited from working jobs as she had to keep up the family image. All that did was make her reliant on her parents' money which they only gave her the bare minimum to maintain her appearance, buy her textbooks and eat, nothing else. 

She quickly went back to her book bag looking for the silk bag with the gold coins from her father. The thought of using her fathers money was sickening but she wasn’t going to throw them away, she needed to survive. She hadn't even considered selling potions but if anyone could teach her how she was in the right place. This was a caravan with a bunch of professional merchants. She felt like she at least had a direction now and that brought her some relief. 

“Bjorn, you ready for another bath?” She asked the familiar.

Freja looked along the roadside for any signs of usable plants. She already informed Sabec that she may jump out if she finds something but the wagons aren’t moving fast and she could easily walk to catch up. The gnoll man seemed less talkative than the day before but Freja didn’t feel she had the right to pry. She gasped when she saw a blue flower growing in the field they were riding along. She hopped out of the wagon and Bjorn followed her like usual. 

“It is a northern blue moon.” Freja said happily as she looked through her florea book. “If I find a few more ingredients, I can make a lot of different potions with this.” She picks the flower carefully and turns to Bjorn. “Oh, that reminded me I will need some of your venom to run tests on it. You killed a troll young man, you don’t know how rare that is with venom.”

By the time the caravan finally reached the next village, this one on a river, Freja had already found a large stockpile of various useful plants. She still needed to prepare them for use but she told herself she would do that after work. She wanted to learn as much as possible on how to sell things as she would need to be able to provide for herself at some point. This village seemed to be more affluent than the first. The wendigo that lived there were artisans. 

There are multiple ethnicities of wendigo. The black nighthand, like Freja’s father, whose skin ranged from ashen to as dark as coal and were generally larger. The snowfallen like her mother, which have light skin and often white freckles and thin frames. Finally the woodentail, they are the mixed children of the two much like Freja and her sibling. This village consisted of mainly snowfallen women, the men were most likely either drafted for the war or working in Lavi a few days' journey away. 

Needless to say Sabec didn’t have as much luck in this town as in the first. Joha on the other hand needed help so Freja would finally have some time to talk with the enigmatic tiger demon. She wanted to ask him about his magic and if he knew anything about Bjorn but she didn’t have the time between learning different spices and salesman techniques. Most of her time was spent watching the large tigerman in action and processing transactions after being told how much different ingredients sold for.

“Oh, do you go to Dorsehal Academy, a young mage in the making?” One of the women asked Freja after the rush subsided. “My son was also accepted.”

“I-I, um.” Freja stuttered as she looked to Joha for support. 

“Oh, well I am sure you know how expensive the academy is ma’am.” Joha interjected. “Sif here has big aspirations and if you would like to support her, some of the proceeds from today's sales will go to her tuition.”

The woman sighs. “I wish my son was as driven as you to go to that school young lady. Do study hard.” 

Joha finished talking with the lady and ended up selling several different spices to her. Things calmed down after that a few people came and went, nothing anyone couldn’t handle on their own. Joha let Freja go off on her own so she could collect more plants she needed for her potions. The main thing she wanted was fleron root, one of the main ingredients for herbal and lesser health potions. She took her bookbag and the combat knife that she can use for digging or pruning leaves.

“Bjorn, do you remember what the fleron root looks like?” Freja asked, and he affirmatively squawked in response. “Good I will check this side of the river and you can do the oth...”

Freja stopped in her tracks as she and Bjorn both felt a familiar mage in the air. To Freja it felt wrong, like an affront to everything she believed. A sacrilege to the Forest Father and the distinct magic of the druids. An explosion set off in the village and screams could be heard as smoke started its ascent into the sky. Freja froze for a moment. This isn’t right, what are druids doing here? They are hundreds of miles from the frontlines on the opposite side of the country.

Suddenly Bjorn bit her skirt and pulled her to the ground as a stream of water sliced the air where her head was a moment before. Bjorn quickly took point in front of Freja hissing as a man walked out of the water twenty feet down stream. The water was not disturbed by him walking through it, not even a ripple as he stepped onto land completely dry. 

He had the mossy green armored robes of the druid military. The twisted wood and metal staff in his hand and combat knife at his side. The man laughed as he saw the village on fire, completely ignoring Freja and Bjorn as he basked in the distant screams. He then turned to Freja, his smile vanished as he locked eyes on her.

“They get all the fun while I get the scraps at the shore.” The druid said. “Pehid, kill the lizard.”

Bjorn was suddenly and unceremoniously picked up by a massive bird Freja had never seen before. Bjorn struggled in the birds grasp, its talons tearing deep into his sides and one of his necks. He wrapped his body around the bird's legs as much as he could  and activated poison scratch. His claws began to glow with a green smoke as he bit and scratched at the bird as much as he could. 

The bird immediately started to kick him off, its sharp talons slicing him with every strike. He was nearly gutted before he fell into the river, a bloody mess. Red stained the water and he didn’t resurface so the bird let out a cry as it returned to the druid and landed with a surprising thump instead of a graceful descent.

“That is a nasty venom.” The druid said as he touched the bird and spoke a word of power. 

The bird spat out green sludge and a little blood and quickly recovered. It flapped its wings in triumph as it stood next to its master. 

“Remind me to get that creature's body when this is over. I want to dissect it.” The druid said. “And don’t get bit next time we fight an obviously venomous creature.” He turned his attention to Freja. “Now, for the little cannibal savage. I will be sending you to see your familiar now.”

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